Synonymous with Family
by lanoirpapillon
Summary: Because at some point, pack becomes comparable to family. A series of interconnected one-shots centered around the Hale Pack. Stiles!Centric. Pairings Listed Inside.
1. Migraines and Massages

**Series Summary: Because at some point, pack become synonymous with family. A series of interconnected one-shots centered around the Hale Pack. Stiles!Centric. Pairings Listed Inside.**

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**Chapter Name: Migraines and Massages**

**Chapter Summary: Stiles is feeling a bit under the weather, and being Alpha suddenly means being a masseuse, who would have thought?**

**Pairings: StilesxDerek, AllisonxScott, LydiaxJackson**

**Warnings: Cuddly!Alpha (Which are extremely deadly so WATCH OUT)**

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Stiles groaned as he pulled up to Derek's newly renovated house, putting a hand to his aching temple. He could just imagine the amount of noise coming from inside, and mentally smacked himself for pushing Derek to buy that surround sound theatre system.

It was Friday, meaning an all weekend sleepover at the Alpha's house. At first the get togethers had been calm; the entire group laying outside sun bathing, a few jaunts through the woods, some research. That didn't last long with seven hyperactive teenage werewolves, who would much rather wrestle and play video games than relax.

It wasn't as if Stiles didn't enjoy video games- he was a teenage boy for God's sakes- but at the moment all he wanted to do was curl up under a rather large, thick, warm blanket and sleep. Oh and soup, yes he definitely wanted soup.

He slowly climbed out of his jeep, wincing as he closed the door and the sound reverberated throughout his head. Holy shit, could he make it into the house?

He hesitantly took a step away from Nancy- his jeep of course- and attempted to find his equilibrium. Swaying in place, his stomach tossed and he felt seriously ill for a moment. He just had to make it up the short flight of stairs so he could crash on the couch, it wasn't that far, it wasn't.

Twenty steps later, he realized just how much he was lying to himself. He hoisted himself up the four steps and leaned against the railing of the stairs, stopping to catch his breath. His head was pounding even more, and the sound inside was amplified. Could he do this? Maybe he should just bail and text Scott later.

This would prove to be impossible as Scott and Jackson burst through the door and ran towards the woods, tackling each other and laughing. Boyd and Isaac ran after the two werewolves, shifting and also joining in the ruckus. Danny just stood in the door-frame, leaning casually and watching his packmates.

"Hey Danny," Stiles greeted, scooting around the taller male and entering the house. The interior was completely redecorated in browns and greens, which complimented the recently acquired wood floors Derek had had installed. The furniture throughout the house was mahogany, the couches and loveseats in dark leather.

Derek was lounging across one of the couches reading a book. He glanced at Stiles momentarily, nodding in greeting, before returning to the tome.

"Where're the girls at?" He asked as he face-planted onto the couch parallel to Derek's. Derek looked at him again, tilting his head slightly. Stiles recognized this as Derek's listening face, as he mapped out where every member of his pack was with his ears.

"Upstairs on the computers, shopping."

Stiles nodded and clutched one of the pillows to his chest, turning away from the Alpha and burying his face into the leather. It still smelled new and barely used, and Stiles didn't like it. Maybe they could watch a movie tonight and break the furniture in. If it was hurting his nose, it had to be killing the wolves'.

He closed his eyes, finally blocking out the light that had been irritating his head for hours. He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he felt a warm hand on his forehead.

Groaning and turning away from whoever saw it fit to disturb him- vowing to remember to sleep with a spray bottle to punish the errant puppies- he burrowed further into the couch, covering his head with his arm. "Go 'way."

The hand moved to the back of his neck and he tensed. "Headache?" The Alpha's voice asked, very close to his ear. Stiles nodded, wondering if he should turn around and see why the older wolf saw it fit to intrude upon his personal bubble.

"Sit up," Derek ground out, and this time Stiles did turn around. There was no way in hell he was sitting up now after the day he had had. He wanted to sleep and be comfortable. If he sat up, that would be against everything he believed in at the moment. And he definitely was going to give the Alpha the satisfaction if he listened.

Derek was kneeled next to the couch, his book forgotten on the coffee table. He held a dishtowel in his hand that looked soaked, and Stiles eyed it warily. Why couldn't he just sleep? He wasn't disturbing anyone by sleeping, right?

"Hey!" Stiles exclaimed after the previously mentioned dishtowel found itself on his head. He sat up immediately, pulling the soaking cloth off of him and turning to chuck it at the werewolf, only to find him not there. "What the- fuck!" Stiles yelled again, feeling himself pulled backwards.

"Language," Derek whispered in his ear, pinning Stiles against his chest. Stiles held his blush at bay, not willing to show Derek that he had won this round, but he had _not_ won the war.

"We're all eighteen here," Stiles groused, loosening his muscles and warily leaning into the Alpha's chest. Derek was warm and smelled good and...Stiles sounded like a damned girl.

"Hm, Isaac is seventeen for one more week. Keep it PG, Stilinski." And Stiles knew, if Derek was joking around already, shit was going down. That was when he felt the hem of his shirt lift slightly, and a warm palm trailed up his spinal column. Fuck, shit _was_ going down. What was wrong with their Alpha? Was he poisoned, hexed, delusional? Had he finally gone completely insane?

The hand continued to roam his back, the fingers lightly prodding before slowly moving down again. Derek grabbed the hem of his shirt this time, and began pulling it over Stiles' head. "No-" "Stiles, I'm going to help you. You aren't going to sleep this entire weekend."

Why couldn't he sleep? Sleep was where he was normal and didn't have to worry about werewolves mauling him or maiming him or massacring his family and...that was a lot of m words. No, no! The ADHD had behaved for the past three hours, control, be in control. Breathe, in, out, in, out. Crap, Derek's fingers were doing that sort-of ticklish roaming thing again, no, no, breathe!

He jumped and tried to move away as Derek found a knot in his lower back and began kneading it out. Derek snaked his other arm around Stiles and held him in place when he attempted to squirm away. Stiles inwardly groaned, if someone walked in right now, they'd make for a very interesting site.

Stiles released the breath he hadn't even known he was holding when the pressure was finally gone, and relaxed against the chest behind him. Derek's hands continued their mission up his back, releasing the pain he hadn't even known was building up. Just as he was about to fall asleep and Derek finished with his shoulders, Derek shifted, waking Stiles up again.

"This may hurt, but relax. It should only take a few minutes." Since when had Derek become a masseuse? Stiles ignored himself and hissed in pain as Derek slowly rubbed the pads of his thumbs at the base of his skull. He tried to focus on Derek's other fingers loosely draped across the sides of his neck, as they lightly moved against his skin. He would call it a caress, but that for one wasn't manly enough, and two, Derek and Stiles were not together. Under any circumstances. Whatsoever.

The pain in his head increased tenfold, his hands wringing the towel out onto his crossed legs in response. Great, now his pants were soaked too. Just fan-fucking-tastic.

Derek moved his left hand to grab the towel and threw it over Stiles' head again, Stiles giving up and collapsing against the Alpha. The fingers continued to gently circle the base of his skull, and the pain was magically disappearing. Okay, maybe Derek did have magical fingers. Yes, that could be taken in different, more intimate connotations...not that he would know.

The cloth was blocking the light and the cool water soothing his eyes, when had they started burning? Derek's hands fell to Stiles' sides, gently moving the fingers up the exposed skin and leaving a burning trail. The extra warmth felt good against his clammy skin, maybe he had a fever or something. He really couldn't care as he leaned into Derek's chest, and Derek's arms pulled him closer, his shirt tickling Stiles' back slightly. Derek's chin rested on Stiles' shoulder, and a deep rumble came from his chest.

Derek Hale, bad ass werewolf alpha, just purred. While cuddling Stiles. Cuddling. _Cuddling._

"Shit! Sorry!" Stiles moved forward and away from Derek, blushing.

Red, angry red, eyes met his and he felt something loop into his back belt loop and pull him back. "Wha-" "Shut up, Stiles."

Stiles' mouth thinned as he tried to keep quiet, the urge to nervously speak and word vomit all over the place almost overpowering. He felt Derek shift to their previous position, and slouched back further and turned slightly to look towards the window showing the front yard. He could see the rest of the pack, minus the girls, wrestling still. He bet that Derek was keeping a very close eye and ear on the situation to make sure nothing became too serious.

"Why are you so difficult about this?" Derek murmured into Stiles' ear, following his gaze outside. All of the other members of the pack had turned to him for comfort at some point, it was natural. Lower ranked wolfs would turn to their Alpha in times of need, for any reason. Stiles, though, he seemed to avoid all contact with Derek at all costs.

"I don't know, does it make you uncomfortable? You don't seem like the touch-feely guy, no offense. I'm sure beneath that hard exterior is a teddy bear hugging, flower picking, kitten petting-" Derek put a hand over Stiles' mouth and pulled him back down to his chest.

"Let me explain, then. Wolves seek comfort, no matter the situation. They thrive on touch and scent, why do you think everyone is together every weekend? Just being in the company of other pack mates will calm the inner wolf, placate it enough to be bearable."

"If you hadn't noticed, I'm not a wolf," Stiles mumbled from behind Derek's hand, his message barely getting relayed with it's jumbled sounds.

"No, but you are around wolves seventy-five percent of the time. Contrary to what you think, you are beginning to carry aspects of the pack, even though they may be small. You smell like werewolf, not like _a _werewolf- just werewolf. It shows where you come from, who you surround yourself with."

A hand gently moved up his arm to his bicep, and squeezed the developing muscle. "You wrestle with the boys sometimes and participate in pack training. Your body is showing this work, showing that you want to be a part of the pack. You aren't just wanting to sit on the side-lines and allow the others to protect you, you want to protect the pack, that dynamic, this life."

"I understand that, but why the...cuddling? You guys want touch, need it actually, but why not a hand on the shoulder or something?"

Derek hummed and wrapped his arms around Stiles. "Because I'm not going to be that sort of Alpha. It's cruel. Inner wolves don't need brief touches, they need a lasting connection."

Stiles' eye twitched. "You mean Jackson and Scott willingly cuddle with you?" His eyes bulged out as he looked up at the Alpha.

Derek rolled his eyes but tightened his grip on Stiles. "It isn't only for their benefit, but for mine as well. They may not like it, and they do have a significant other to receive that contact their wolves need. It's different for me, I have to have a strong connection with each member of my pack to be an effective leader. They understand this, and are usually only needing that comfort after the full moons. It's normally enough for all of us for the month."

He tightened his grip even more, now hugging Stiles tightly to him, and Stiles was speechless- that's a first. "And of course when they are hurt or upset they know to find me. Have you read about the connections between an Alpha and its pack?"

Stiles shrugged, remaining silent. His stomach was rolling though, nerves wracking him. If he was going where he was implying, Stiles could be in some huge trouble.

A hand ran up Stiles' back and then back down, now that, that was a caress. Oh shit.

"You know, the girls have been trying to get us together for ages?" Derek chuckled, his warm breath fanning over Stiles' face. Stiles hummed and burrowed further into Derek's chest. "I knew, but I thought it was puppy-love, no pun intended. It didn't go away though, and I couldn't ignore it. You were hurt during the meeting we had last week, when Scott had declared Allison as his mate. My wolf didn't like it."

Stiles almost jumped when the boys barreled back into the room again, plopping onto the wood floor. They were all laughing, rolling around, and overall having fun. Derek didn't move though, and seemed to quirk his lip fondly at the hyperactive tendencies the younger wolves had. They were fighting over which xbox game they should play, and Stiles piped in halfway through the argument, when things were getting a little heated, about playing that new dance game on the Kinect.

All of the teenagers ceased moving, before all nodding vehemently and putting the messy stack of game cases into the cupboard.

"Oh gosh, I was kidding. I don't want to see Jackson dancing like J-Lo. No offense Jackson." Jackson only narrowed his eyes at Stiles and hissed under his breath- a sure fire way to show he was slightly angry at the comment.

Stiles ignored the were-lizard, kanima, _thing_ before him and instead continued to watch the group from his position on Derek's chest. Scott was already dancing to the first song, swinging his hips and arms wildly. Stiles couldn't help but almost die from laughter because, shit, Allison would not love him if he saw the way he was dancing at the moment.

Actually, Allison was in the back of the room also dying of laughter, Lydia smirking and filming the entire spectacle. He looked at Derek above him laughing softly, smiling at his second in command's obvious talent in dancing.

"I. Can't. Handle. This. Oh God. Need. To. Pee. Lemme up, lemme up, lemme up!" Stiles pushed Derek's arms off of his hips and ran towards the bathroom, hearing the Pack's laughter trail behind him.

Okay, maybe they were loud. And maybe they were completely obnoxious. But they were pack. His pack. His family. And he couldn't help but love them.

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**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

**So this story is basically for when I feel like writing some DerekxStiles and pack fun times. Plenty of pack cuddling and fights and dinners and dancing will be involved. No worries there my dear readers! **

**Oh yeah, this is one year into the future, after the Kanima's master has somehow been dealt with. There might be some pack dramas if I want. If you want to see something particular just let me know!**

**I love to hear your comments about my writing, so please do leave me some love via that HUGE (seriously, why is the comment box so large...) box below. Muchas gracias, mercie, grazie...oui ;)**

**xoxo,**

**Noir :)**


	2. Scott's Misadventures with the Stove

**Chapter Name: Scott's Misadventures with the Stove**

**Chapter Summary: Scott forgets he's in charge of dinner, Stiles helps, Jackson supervises. AKA Scott almost torches Derek's kitchen...again, and Jackson can't help making derogatory comments towards Stiles.**

**Pairings: StilesxDerek (seriously, if you squint. It's like barely even there)**

**Warnings: Extreme cooking (not really, unless eggs are hard for you to make or something...), Snippy Jackson, Chef Stilinski, and a lost, sad Scott.**

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Stiles threw his backpack down in the foyer and curled up on the windowseat facing the front yard, welcoming the warm rays of the sun filtering through the glass. Derek had banned him in participating in pack tye dying day because he didn't trust him with the semi-permanent coloring. Although the thought of pouring bright green coloring over Jackson's head was tempting, he didn't really think he could get away with walking around calling him the lizardman or hulk because hello? Dark green monster kanima thing, who else wasn't just itching to make that correlation. Anyone would be tempted to do the same thing in his place.

He should have started on his presentation due Monday for English, but the day was just too nice to work on homework- ick. Instead he rolled onto his feet, grabbed a coke from the fridge, and plugged in his ipod to blast The Black Keys throughout the house. Seriously, Howlin' For You? Genius.

Skipping up the stairs, literally skipping and somehow not faceplanting, skillful human? Pshyeah.

Turning on one of the desktops, Stiles logged into his email and signed onto his latest roleplaying game. He was able to keep himself entertained long enough to save some random princess in distress because apparently that _happened, _and also skillfully catch his soda after hitting it with his elbow before he couldn't stay in one place any longer.

Looking both ways before stepping onto the staircase, Stiles hopped up onto the rail and slid down the banister, laughing hysterically. The one time he had tried to do that at the McCall's place, he had completely biffed it at the bottom and, oops, he talked too soon.

His pant leg got caught on the tall wooden post at the bottom, sending Stiles backwards and facefirst onto the floor. "Oof!"

Everything outside went quiet and in a matter of seconds the door flew open and Scott and Derek ran inside.

"Um, hey guys," Stiles said from the floor, propping his head up on his hand because hell, he meant to do that.

"Are you...okay?" Scott hesitantly moved into the house and towards his friend. "What happened?"

"Oh you know, just testing the sturdiness of the railing. Quality stuff you got there, Hale!"

"You slid down, didn't you?" Derek deadpanned, putting a hand to his forehead in exasperation.

"So you're telling me that at some point in your childhood you didn't feel like sliding down the stairs? What sort of sheltered life did you live? You poor, poor isolated chi-" "Stiles you touch my hair and I will rip your throat out," Derek roared as Stiles gathered himself off of the floor and went to ruffle his Alpha's hair.

"Your threats mean nothing to me," Stiles faked haughty pretty damn well if he could say so himself. "I mean Scott, remember that time in eighth grade when-"

"Yes," Scott blushed. "And we vowed to never talk about that night again. But really dude, you could have died or something!"

"You two are the biggest buzzkill _ever_. Gosh, you won't even let me dye shirts, and now you won't let me entertain myself? What sort of dictatorship is this?" Stiles dramatically held a hand to his chest, seemingly heartbroken.

"The kind that is attempting to not let you kill yourself." Awww, and maybe Derek, big cuddly Derek, really did care about his well-being.

"Bullshit! Nope, don't deny it! I call it as I see it! You only want me for my tacos."

Both wolves perked up at the mention of his mega-meat tacos. "We're having tacos tonight?" Scott was almost drooling. Apparently ground beef and a tortilla was enough to make even the toughest wolves submit to Stiles' power. Perhaps he had finally found the next weapon of mass destruction, his mother's own taco recipe.

"No, dude, it's your turn this week." Scott froze at Stiles' words, horror flashing across his face."Don't tell me you forgot."

All noise outside ceased once more, and suddenly the foyer was filled with hungry werewolves.

"No, no! I didn't forget, that's preposterous!" And where Scott learned a word like preposterous was beyond him. He suspected Allison had something to do with it.

"Stiles. Kitchen. Now," Scott hissed through clenched teeth, his left eye twitching slightly. Oh ho, looks like Mr. Second in Command was going to get in trouuuubbleeee. Yes, he did just sing the world trouble in his head, sue him.

Stiles followed Scott into the kitchen, pausing as he entered to lean cooly against the wall, smirking.

"So," he drew the word out, "What're we having for dinner?"

Scott ran a hand through his hair, head whiping around towards the pantry, sniffing.

"There's like nothing here, Stiles. I can't even make pancakes for God's sakes."

Stiles rolled his eyes because, honestly, who didn't have the making for pancakes around all the time? He opened the fridge to grab the Bisquik, eyes widening in surprise when it _wasn't there._ What. The. Actual. Fuck.

"Okay, okay, maybe Derek is a bit behind the times," a growl reverberated through the house, shaking the walls slightly. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"But we can make eggs, and bacon! You guys like bacon, right? Oh my gosh, they can be your treats. When you're good little puppies and do as you're told that'll be your reward from now on."

Scott let out an exasperated sigh, but grabbed the two cartons of eggs and three packs of bacon. And holy shit, three packs of bacon. Maybe Derek was doing something right...

Going to shut the door, Stiles squeaked when he realized Jackson was leaning against the cupboard, nonchalantly chewing on an apple. Only Jackson could eat and act like he was the coolest thing on this entire planet.

"So what are you dumbasses making for dinner?" He said in between a bite of apple, smirking and chewing and ew, gross.

"Ugh, shut your mouth Jackson. And that wasn't a kinder way of saying shut the hell up, it was more of a learn some fucking manners, moron," Stiles said between clenched teeth. "But really, you can shut the hell up too," He finished, grinning.

Jackson of course just rolled his eyes and took an even bigger bite.

"Whatever, and welcome back to cooking with Stiles and Scott! I'm your host, Stiles Stilinski, and tonight we're not only cooking for a pack of raving lunatics, also known as werewolves, but there's a twist! We're making breakfast for werewolves."

Scott just stared at him. "Is that necessary?"

Stiles just narrowed his eyes and skillfully cracked an egg with one hand into a glass bowl, discarding the shells, without even looking. Scott took a step back, raising his eyes to the heavens.

Stiles finished cracking the eggs into one bowl, pouring milk into the eggs, and whisking them.

"There's no humanly possible way you can mess this up. Not even werewolvly possible. All you do is pour it into the pan, use a spatula to stir and push it around, and voila. Scrambled eggs. Got it?" Scott nodded, holding a spatula as if it were a weapon and the eggs were his unsuspecting victim.

"And, err, don't look so menacing with the spatula. Unless you can stab Jackson through with it, then I'd be in full approval."

"I got this, I got this, just stir. I. Got. This." Stiles took a deep breath as he moved to start the bacon, shaking his head as Scott coached himself through making eggs. What would these guys do without him?

Filling a large pan with the first package of bacon, Stiles moved to start chopping onions. He sniffled as he cut, making a decent sized pile for the amount of eggs they were going to make. The smell of onion, however, became obscured when, lo and behold, Scott burned the eggs.

He hadn't even really realized the room as beginning to get cloudy, but he should've known something was up when even Jackson had moved to the other side of the room, laughing his ass off.

Whipping around, Stiles hurriedly turned off the stove and shoved Scott to the side. The guy was eighteen for fucks sake, he couldn't even make eggs. He was still mumbling to himself about having this under control, when, honestly? Did he like his eggs a bit charred?

"Scott, they're burning. Do you like to eat burned eggs? Have you ever eaten burned eggs? They taste like ass."

Scott's eyes widened as he mouthed the word burning. Oh gosh, he didn't even realize he was burning the eggs.

Stiles moved the pan of eggs over to the stainless steel sink, turning on the water to full blast, and coughing when even more smoke and steam came up out of the sink.

"Mother-" Stiles' mouth was covered by Derek who made an unexpected-well not really becaue they were burning down his house...- appearance behind him.

"Stiles," the Alpha warned, growling lowly. Ugh, he was using his Alpha voice, that was when you had to listen. Even _he_ had to listen.

Jackson was now on the floor laughing, having propped himself up against the wall nearest the living room.

Erica and Boyd were in the doorway, leaning against opposite frames, and Isaac could be seen behind them, peeking in on the scene. Lydia and Allison knew to just stay away when the boys were in the kitchen because, well, it was a hazard to their personal health.

"What are you idiots doing?" Scott pouted and slumbed against one of the cupboards, eyes downcast. Stiles just crossed his arms and turned off the burner to the bacon, throwing the now charred pieces into the trash.

"Well, I was attempting to cook, your Highness. But then Scotty over here apparently doesn't know how to even make scrambled eggs." Derek looked slightly uncomfortable with that line of thought, and Stiles hit his head against the refrigerator. "Really, you don't either? Isn't that like the first thing in Werewolf 101 or something? How to cook for yourself? Because I feel like that is an important aspect, definitely need for the survival-" Derek covered his mouth again. Stiles pouted behind the hand.

"Jackson, shut. Up," Derek growled, eyes flashing red towards the werelizard behind him. Jackson instantly stilled and looked thoroughly chastised.

"Now, seeing as you both have ruined our breakfast food for tomorrow morning, it looks like it's going to be take-away. Again."

Danny popped into the room a moment later, holding up his car keys, jingling them.

"Already on it. Fifteen boxes of chinese coming up."

Stiles pushed Derek's hand away, taking out another coke because his had mysteriously disappeared. Lydia probably took it because she was the one that lectured him on the importance of him not ingesting as much sugar because it was bad for his ADHD or something. He had yet to find proof of that statement...

Taking a large gulp and walking into the living room, he collapsed on one of the sofas and flipped through the channels, stopping on Syfy.

"Gosh I love Danny," A low, playful growl sounded behind him as the coke disappeared from his grasp, and the kitchen door shut again.

"Ugh, and I hate all of you, so much."

"Love you too, Stiles!" Lydia called downstairs from her perch in the library.

He wrinkled his nose and burrowed further into the cushions, narrowing his eyes at the hyperactive adventurer travelling around Nepal looking for werewolves. Gosh, why travel to Nepal when he would kindly offer his pack up any day.

He stopped that train of thoughts because, well, a place in his heart ached at the idea of his pack ever leaving him.

Even when Jackson was one of the douchiest guys alive, Scott didn't have a clue what he was doing, and Derek was _Derek_, he loved them all the same. Well mostly all the same, his love was somewhat divied up differently for obvious reasons.

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**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

**Oh my gosh, you people are the most adorable things EVER. Seriously, that is the biggest reception I've had to a one-shot in...ever... on ffnet at least. Thank you all so much for the feedback because seriously, those fourteen reviews gave me so many ideas for where this story could go (even though some were very vague...*hint**hint*)**

**Anyways, I got a request for a super feelsy one-shot with our main pack boys after the full moon, that's up next...or within the new two one-shots at least. :) If anyone has any other requests or, well other comments please leave me a review!**

**Even when I don't answer all the reviews, I see what you are all saying. And I would really love some constructive criticism. Especially because 45 story alerts are going out for this story alone. If you don't get my hinting, honestly, I don't even know what to do with you. So please, please, PLEASE review and give me your feedback! Tell me what you want to see, challenge me! **

**Thank you all so much for your continued support!**

**xoxo,**

**Noir :)**


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